Media culture is always buzzing about the next big thing. The would-be transition from teenage kicks in the bedroom to freshly crowned cream of the crop is always a good 'angle', whether it's The Edge's alleged agreement with his parents to pack it all in after a year if it was going nowhere, or the more recent phenomenon of Ash's name gracing graffitied canvas bags before the members had even sat their A levels.

Nothing lends itself to myth manufacturing better than youth. JJ72 are perfect - fresh from the Leaving Cert, beautifully photogenic, full of hope and lest we forget, armed to the teeth with a formidable little arsenal of stonking good tunes. "An exciting fresh faced Dublin trio" is the soundbite that has wormed its way into the trendiest of London music mags.

But the band aren't fully in favour of bringing it all back home. "Irish music as an entity means nothing to us," contends cherubic frontman Mark Greaney. "Feargal and I formed this band three years ago and we played all the gigs in Behan's and Doran's and it just lacked something special. It was easy to pack a very small venue with family and friends, and ultimately we felt that it was not very genuine. It's not that we did that stereotypical thing of re-locating lock, stock and barrel to England, we just took every opportunity to play there we got. It's just a different and more honest challenge - to try and get a venue in Middlesborough where absolutely no-one's on your side and you've got a voice like mine. You have to earn your applause - there's no polite clapping from your mates and aunties."

Indeed, Mark's voice is the very thing that both divides and conquers for the JJs. Its quivering warbles and impassioned high pitched howls will either enrapture or alienate the prospective listener. He has already gained favourable comparison with American alternative gods Shudder To Think, and rapid dismissal for Aled Jones-style crooning.

"Well, I've never listened to a Shudder To Think record, and I don't think an Aled Jones comparison is in the slightest bit uncharitable," replies Mark. "I love dramatic melody. I played the violin for years before I even picked up a guitar."

So what ignited a lust for making the devil's music?

"It's quite simple. I like butter and brown bread, and see Joy Division and Nirvana in the same way. I'm attracted to big melodies - creating this beautiful abstract thing. Otherwise it's just white boys playing guitars, lifting from other albums. We'd bring a bunch of CDs on the tour bus but we'll always end up listening to Nevermind. That was the spark that got us going. I listened to Closer the other day and I just see it as a mini-opera. No other music around now moves me in that way. Bands like Travis don't have any of that ooomphh factor."

Music's most common function is to entertain. So what if the majority of contemporary popsters don't have the ooomph factor of Kurt Cobain or Ian Curtis?

"Sure, fine! If acts like Westlife are fully aware of what they do then fine, but I saw B*Witched being interviewed and they felt that they had to make out that they wrote their own songs! Like why??? For starters, I don't think anyone can say why they associate with Ian Curtis. No one can. It's like when you walk down a beach and the way the sky is. It's that real and yet that abstract. Like being in your sitting room and the way the light is.That's what music is."

So are JJ72 more inclined to paint tones and mood with sound rather than provide soundbyte nuggets of supposed meaningfulness?

"Yes," continues Mark. "We don't pretend to have the answers. This band is a machine of confusion, but we'd like to see it as a machine of confusion that cuts through everything else, and whether that takes six albums or happens right at this moment doesn't really matter. In fact, it doesn't really matter at all. This band is no more important than anything else."

* JJ72 play Dublin Castle on Sunday 30th April.